


Not-So-Selfishness

by 88WingDing



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: M/M, Obligatory Zim Lives On Earth AU, Slow Burn, also zim is scene thanks for coming to my ted talk, clothes stealing bc im soft, im guessing???, rated g for dibs goth phase
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-02-10 13:39:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18661513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/88WingDing/pseuds/88WingDing
Summary: Zim feels like his loyalties are slipping, he chalks it up to selfishness, a disease that causes an Irken to put their own being above the empire's, and tries to treat it using home remedies. This goes out the window however, when the remedies don't seem to be working as they should, and Zim puts himself in danger to save Dib. He starts analyzing his priorities.





	1. Chapter 1

"B-but my Tallests-"  
Red shook his head, the same way Zim shook his at GIR, it was immensely demoralizing.  
"Zim, your reports speak for themselves here, you haven't made any progress in conquering the planet."  
"Seriously, not even like, a cult or something." Said Purple, offscreen.  
"I did have a cult! A very enthusiastic one at that! And our numbers weren't anything to scoff at."  
"And where are they now?"  
Zim laughed, loudly and dramatically. Everything was more believable if it was loud and dramatic, even if it was followed by a coughing fit.

"I deserted them, they weren't necessary in my quest for con...quest."  
Yes, rhyming, rhyming was a sign of sophistication. Zim could work with this.  
Red looked more exasperated, if possible. "Zim, you aren't conquering. It would be different if you were ACTUALLY underway in your plot to enslave that planet, but you aren't! And you just threw away an applicable resource!"  
Purple came into frame just to nod solemnly into the camera.  
"My greatest respect my Tallest, but I am more than capable of taking over this heap of floating grease and sludge without the support of its pea-brained residents."  
"Then there's no reason for you to not be making progress. Unless of course..."

Zim' antennae stiffened against his head.  
"Unless what my Tallest?"  
"...Unless you've grown selfish, Zim."  
His antennae now pressed hard against the line of his skull, Zim quaked.  
"N-no my Tallest! Of course not! My loyalty to your wishes far outshines any personal agenda."  
Purple's eyes lit up at the mention of the disease, eyeing Zim with something of a new lens. Zim didn't like that.  
"It is possible, we've lost soldiers to selfishness before, it's not a good way to go."

Zim knew all too well. His mind started racing through the stories he'd been told since smeethood. Elite Soldier Flook and the planet of the whales, an Irken classic. The story of a respected and mightily tall Irken soldier who had meant to invade the planet Gomra, but had foolishly grown fond of the exotic fauna of the marine planet, and abandoned the empire to live an unfulfilling life among the whales and savages. Going to a dreadful planet was a tedious and unfulfilling task, but many Irken favored this over the possibility of ending up like Elite Soldier Flook, or like any other selfish defective.

"I can assure you my Tallest that Zim hates this planet with everything he is and that I would love to see it burn under my superior boot!" He coughed "Or conquer until you see it fit for your rule, whatever you prefer."  
He severely hoped they couldn't sense his trepidation.  
Purple hummed noncommittally. "Well... a few home remedies never hurt..."  
"Yes Purple, great idea. ZIM, you will treat yourself however you see fit to ensure no possibility of selfishness."  
Zim nodded excitedly, just happy he hadn't been diagnosed defective on the spot for showing weakness.  
"Yes my Tallest."  
The call was ended from the other side.

"GIR!"  
Clink.  
Clink.  
Clank.  
ClaNK.

"Yes Master?"  
"Prepare for me a cornucopia of home remedies for selfishness, I can't afford to go wrong here."  
GIR had that blank look on his face that meant he would start drooling soon.  
"A plethora, GIR."  
"Ohhh, okie master! I'll get you a remedies!"

Where in the little robots programming did it teach him to skip, and how can Zim remove it right now, immediately?

Zim remembered when Irken in the academy were diagnosed with selfishness. He would be walking down the halls, with purpose of course, and hear them mutter affirmations to themselves.  
"I am nothing, the Tallests are almighty, I am nothing, the Tallests are almighty."  
It was enough to make the heel of his flawless boot tap out of it's perfectly calculated rhythm.

_

It was a normal day at the increasingly disgusting human skool facility. Well, normal save for the fact that Zim, for the first time in months he might add, was wearing clothes other than his invader uniform. Instead he wore some clothes he stole from Dib-weed's closet. Partly because he wouldn't be caught dead shopping at a human store unironically, partly to annoy Dib. That last one was a very big part.

He had stolen a navy blue t-shirt, it seems to be the only color he owns, with a picture of a large pink moth on it. He also wore the leather pants that Dib owned almost exclusively with maybe three pairs of dark wash skinny jeans and one pair of dress pants. He also took a pair of black "Dank Martians" he thinks the boots were called. He also found a pair of leather gloves in Dib's closet. The fingers were cut off for some reason, but it was better than nothing. He cut off the two extra finger holes on the side so it would fit his tri-appendaged hand better.

Zim felt more than a little embarrassed at the prospect of wearing something as flowy and extra as a trench coat, but he felt even WORSE when he considered having his arms exposed, so he had also stolen a black blazer that was tucked away in the back of the bottom dresser drawer. He popped up the collar, it was good enough. The outfit was disgustingly drab but the Dib thing didn't own clothes in any other color than black and immensely dark blue. Not even hot pink, indisputably the best color in the galaxy. Disgusting.

It was a necessity in selfishness remedies to disconnect yourself from the Irken empire, to experience how it felt to speak Irken, to look Irken, and yet to not wear their uniform. It was as if you had carried a piece of paper, and written on it were the words, "I've been tossed out." And even when on a primitive planet, where no one knew the social connotations of an Irken without a uniform, it was unnerving to walk around. Even ZIM had a difficult time maintaining his always perfect posture.

Many invaders had told stories of accidentally becoming so accustomed to the ways of their assigned planet that when they returned from a successful mission they showed minuscule signs of selfishness, leading to whole debacles over whether or not previously perfectly-functioning invaders had gone defective. Even the mighty ZIM had taken into consideration this terrible scenario when approaching the planet he was to hold under the sole of his boot. But after actually attempting to conform to the cultures and such of this revolting mush rock, Zim had ruled out the already entirely implausible possibility of such weakness. The longer he stated on this NAUSEATING pile of dookie he only became more sure of his loyalty to the empire. If his alternative to his Tallests was this planet of greasy glorified apes, he would gladly serve the hierarchy pak over spooch for many a millennia to come. He wasn't worried, he was only doing these remedies because his Tallests had recommended it.

Ms. Bitters was going on and on about this mind-numbing section of human history that Zim only had vague memories of. Considering though that his knowledge of the planet at this point reaches farther back than most Earth historians and rock-science-learny worms, he knows he can afford to look over something as insignificant as World War 1. Zim tuned back into the lecture just to amuse himself.

"-and we called this the war to end all wars, but this is wrong as we all know as there was a World War 2. We keep saying we change for the better, but it's likely that a World War 3 is already underway, and that it will most likely DOOM us all..."

She looked around the room, or at least Zim supposed she did. He couldn't see her tiny Earth mammal pupils, she just pivoted her head on that perpetual axis that human worms have. Zim thinks he remembers it being one of those "joint" things.

"...Can anyone tell me WHY we're all doomed?"

Zim raised his hand, he knew this one.

"Because you're all DISGUSTING bags of flesh filled with fat and if your society is ever infiltrated by a far superior and AMAZING invader then you will all fall to your knees without any hesitation, because you're all BAGS. BAGS I TELL YOU!"

A long silence filled the room, human worms obviously awestricken by Zim's intellectually superior and yet at the same time not-suspicious-at-all brain.

"...no Zim... we are DOOMED because of nuclear BOMBS-"

Zim tuned back out again, as usual the senior human worm didn't understand how advanced Zim's logic was in this instance. Zim had already learned about these supposed "nuclear bomb" doohickies, and long before now eliminated them as a threat. Humans are so scared of confrontation that they never even use their strongest weapons. It will be decades before some stupid ape attempts to fire one of those children's toys only to find their wires had been cut and replaced with french fries. Complementary of the incredible ZIM.

"But Zim," you might be thinking, "don't actual nuclear bombs have to go through thorough maintenance checks on a frequent basis and can't actually be activated with just one press of a button?"

No, is his answer.

No they are not.

He entertained himself for the next half hour by building simple flamethrowers out of pens and making aggressive prolonged eye contact with the Dib-monkey. He knew, of course, that Dib had been staring at him as soon as he left his house, and his eyes hadn't really ever been off of Zim since. Mostly because of his change of dress, partly just because that's what he did every other morning as well. He hasn't returned the gesture mostly out of wanting to annoy Dib by showing he was above such drabble as acknowledging a human worm's presence. At this point, assume all things Zim does is to annoy Dib. Now that he was looking at the human though, Zim noticed his eyes were particularly yellow today, it made him angry. It usually made him angry when he noticed Dib's appearance had changed, that was supposed to be ZIM'S thing! Zim decided to use his distaste for the Dib-thing to, yet again, annoy him. Zim also cannot stress enough how this is completely usual and routine and normal and there was nothing out of place that morning whatsoever, except for the aforementioned dress change and enhanced iris shade.

"Hello Dib-weed."  
"Hi space boy."  
The nickname had stuck, as had Dib's. They barely even use their given names anymore. There was a long silence, Dib broke it.  
"Those clothes look familiar."  
Despite himself, he felt embarrassed at his lack of a uniform once again.  
"Whatever weak attempt at a disguise this is, it isn't working on someone as superior as ZIM."  
Dib made a face that expressed that Zim was being a hypocrite, but Zim knew for a fact that his disguise was impeccable.  
"I genuinely don't know what we're talking about right now."  
"Oh please, you obviously did something to your ocular implants, they're gratuitously more vibrant than usual. But if your goal is to avoid recognition, I shouldn't have to tell you that amplifying your natural features is NOT the way to do that."  
"I didn't do anything to my eyes Zim, and humans don't HAVE ocular implants. We grow our eyes ourselves, I shouldn't have to tell YOU that."  
"You LIE! You've explicitly changed your appearance! Your eye color is at least 4 levels more saturated than average."  
"Well maybe human eyes change color sometimes, do aliens' eyes not change colors? That's a real shame, Zim."  
Zim looked around the classroom to see if the other smeet humans reflected this new information, but he quickly realized he didn't actually take note of any of his other classmates, much less something as insignificant as eye color. As much as Zim would love to shut down the stupid Dib-pig, he might actually have to take the human's word for it until he can do more independent research.

"I never said that, I was simply pointing out a fact."  
Zim thought about an appropriate deflection of any attempts to make Zim crack.  
"Have you never received a complement in your life before Dib-weed?"  
That was something humans did right? Compliment their eyes? Zim was a little rusty on his conversational skills. Evidently though, it was effective. Dib's face changed color, he learned that this was something that happened when humans were outsmarted.  
"Whatever you're doing, space boy, I'll stop you."  
Zim laughed, the nerve of this human worm baby, as if he could stop the mighty ZIM!

And then he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really need to read the comics


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm just incredibly offended that of all clothes you decided to steal you took and destroyed those fingerless leather gloves I bought off of amazon during my goth phase and haven't worn since, where even were those?"  
"'Phase' it says."  
"Oh shut up space unicorn."

_

After class got out he began to walk home, whispering his affirmations to himself. Along with his already relatively monotonous routine, bathe in paste, go to skool, fight with Dib-weed, apply for a job at McMeaties even though he'd already been fired once, return home, clean up after GIR, plot for invasion, etc, he now also had other things to do.  
"Zim is nothing, the Tallests are almighty, Zim is nothing, the Tallests are almighty..." It was frankly humiliating to be out in public, without his uniform, reciting affirmations to himself like some defective smeet, but at the very least his peers weren't around to make childish comments about it in Zim's general direction.

He walked to school with the heel of his much less than flawless boot, though he made it work, tapping out of rhythm.

_

"COMPUTER! Prepare my prescription."  
"Do I have to be here to see it."  
The sound of superior Irken technology whirring above and below him and a subtle flicker of the lights told Zim that everything was ready.  
"Silly computer! Of course you do!"  
There was no response

Zim was ready.

"MASTERRR!!! MASTER! Come here!!! I found this outside!!!!"  
The unit offered him an absolutely disgusting creature covered in fur. The nature of its being was indiscernible.  
"GIR! Put that thing back outside! You don't know where it's been!"  
An audible beat.  
"Okie!"  
And then he waddled away, presumably to follow the order as he usually would, meaning a 50% chance of outright negligence to complete the task, and a 50% chance the task was completed, but not in the way Zim had hoped.

Zim sighed, it was customary that when one is treating selfishness, they put their base on the torture setting. Not anything as terrible as physical torture but much worse. While set to torture, the base wouldn't shut down but blatantly either ignore any order or purposefully cause a hindrance to the Irken residing in it. Theoretically the house would also send a signal making any SIR unit on the planet's surface follow this same rule. Yet GIR seemed to be functioning like normal. Perhaps he was just so loyal to the mighty ZIM that he overrode the function? That must be a huge breakthrough in the Irken learning algorithm! Zim reminded himself to propose this theory to the Tallests once he was off of his prescription. Advanced indeed.

While on his medication, Zim had to be very conscious of his demands. If he even said one thing to the computer while this setting was on, he may be paying the price for months.

Unfortunately, Zim is just so used to it, he can't help himself.

"COMPUTER! Bring m-"  
He stopped himself, but it was too late.  
"What was that?"  
"Nothing! I'm sure you must have imagined it."  
"No, you called my name, what do you want?"  
"Like Zim SAID I didn't ask you for ANYTHING AT ALL."  
"Why, anything at all? Well if it's up to me..."  
Zim was absolutely, undoubtedly, and indisputably, NOT panicking.  
"COMPUTER, it is NOT up to you and you will NOT. DO. ANYTHING."  
"Oh I know!"

And that's when Zim was taken into the basement and strapped to a chair in front of a wall of screens.

Every screen was playing the same pudding commercial, the one where the kid turns into pudding presumably to stay that way for all eternity, but just slightly out of sync with the other.

It was hell.

And he would have to sit through this over, and over, and over, and over and over and over andoverandoverandover-

Or at least he would've if GIR hadn't come and shoved him off the seat and placed himself in the cavity his superior Irken heinie left in the seat.  
"I love this show..."  
"GIR! Thank you, I don't know how much longer I could've gone, you saved me!"  
Zim was beaming, he was so proud of his little advanced SIR unit he may weep openly. GIR of course was unresponsive, but it didn't put a damper on his mood in the least.

Zim would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all your kudos and kind comments!!! i'll be sure to work on this fic as much as possible to make sure you all enjoy it, this was a small chapter but we'll get to the good stuff very soon :)
> 
> i'm also looking for beta readers! leave a comment telling me your tumblr or instagram username if you're interested!


	3. Chapter 3

Zim, on the contrary, wasn’t fine.

Zim, in actuality, was not-so-silently sobbing over his lunch.

It was only his second day on his prescription and yet Zim knew this would be the day he dies.

Hunched over a hellish collection of Earth Greens, Zim whimpered helplessly as he scooped another forkful into his gaping maw. He had never fell so low in his whole life.

“...Zim?”

It was the Dib-pain, he stood at Zim’s spot on the lunch bench, hands nonchalantly placed in his pockets, vertebrae concave. The Dib wasn't threatened, he felt like he was in power here, leaving himself open, the nerve. Zim grabbed at the air between them with as much ferocity as he could muster in his depressed state. Which is to say, he flailed around painfully, whining at the lack of contact his fists were making to Dib’s abdomen.

“Space boy, what are you doing?”  
Zim usually didn’t mind the nickname he’d allowed the Dib to give him, but today it was just unbearably annoying to hear it when Dib was acting so stuck-up.  
“I am, trying, to DESTROY YOU!!!”  
If Zim was still crying, it was because the taste of the Greens was still in his superior mouth, and definitely not for any other reason.  
“Well don’t hurt yourself.” The Dib-weed let out a small laugh like a smeet at the pitiful joke at Zim’s expense, just who did he think he was???  
“FEAR ME DIB-HUMAN!”  
And that was when Dib turned and left to sit at his own table on the other side of the cafeteria, not even bothering to stalk Zim, in fact, going as far as avoiding looking at the Invader. Just because 5th grade was almost over doesn’t mean he got to slack off, evil never ceases!

Zim wasn’t crying a little harder than before the Dib had annoyed him, and he didn’t feel horrible because Dib wasn’t looking at him anymore, because no one was looking at him anymore, or because no one cared about what he was doing. Not at all.

“Zim is nothing,” hiccup, “the Tallests are,” hiccup, “a-almighty...”

Dharma, the known vegan kid, just happened to sit next to Zim that day. This was, to say the least, an unsatisfactory situation.

“Uh, Zim, are you o-“  
“ZIM IS NOTHING- I meeean, Zim is ok! It is nothing.”  
They were a quiet, polite, but smiley type of fifth-grade worm, (Sixth grade maybe? Or seventh?? Wait, what age was he supposed to be again???) it reminded Zim of how Dib would often act in front of adults or others who acted kindly to him.  
Ew.  
“Uh, well you don’t seem to be liking your salad that much.”  
Soft smiles shouldn’t be directed at Zim if not in a state of worship-like reverence, it is synonymous to pity.  
“I am,” heavy breathing, “enjoying my traditional human sahlid. Thank you very much.”  
“Well, we can trade if you’d like, I think you’d like my rajma a lot better if you’re used to eating meat.”  
The ape child offered a plastic container filled with beans that sent shivers up his vertebrae and a misleadingly delicious savory sauce, a weak attempt to mask the poison. Zim leaned as close as he could to the human’s face without vomiting over the stench.  
“If you ever show this pile of filth in front of me ever again, Zim will rip your arms off and eat them like your greasy human frenchy fries. Understand?”  
Dharma, not implying that Zim knew this was their name, backed off immediately, shadows of tears forming in their eyes. Zim preferred this greatly over that disgusting smile and that genuine lilt to their voice that they carried earlier. Zim knew the human didn’t mean to poison him, but he didn’t care. Zim exists not to bring humans joy or companionship. Only to bring destruction and dictatorship among the weaker species that dare challenge him!

...

Zim, in actuality, continued to not-so-silently sob over his lunch.

-

After the debacle at lunch, classes had been a drag, Zim had considered telling Ms. Bitters he felt sick, but he didn’t want to go about stealing some kids’ organs again. Now though, Zim was at the back of the school building, finding something to busy himself with.

Zim stared at a beehive, dancing with death.

Ever since his first encounter with a bee, Zim had kept a close eye on them. Once he learns enough about them, he planned to harness the power of the hive and use them for whatever he can.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say he’d grown a fondness for the little harbingers though.

“Hello Hive Number 024, codename Lint Licker, how are we doing today?”  
Zim makes small talk while he prepares the observation equipment.  
“Bzzz...bzzzzzzzzz...”  
“Yes, good, very good.”  
Truth be told, Zim didn’t dare underestimate the insects, he held a certain reverie for them. A healthy amount of fear is paramount in any relationship between the studious and the studied, and almost as important was a comfortable flow of conversation.  
“Zim knows that maintaining communication with presumably non-sentient specimens for the purpose of a more cooperative relationship is pseudoscience, but Zim IS the chatty type.”  
Zim couldn’t remember the last time he was able to study extraterrestrial fauna in its original habitat. Zim spoke whilst donning his bee suit, which was a suit worn by human beekeepers, and not by humans dressed as bees. Zim knew from personal experience that the latter provided little protection against actual bees.  
“I didn’t study xenobiology for half of my smeethood for nothing, you prove to be very useful for many purposes, with potential in both warfare AND agriculture. The Tallest themselves would be impressed!”  
When I said observation equipment by the way, I meant just a very long set of binoculars. A very long set of binoculars that Zim is right now sticking haphazardly into an opening in the hive. Do not assume this is a good way to observe bee hives, because it isn’t.  
“Hello their Tallest,” he addressed the queen bee, “looking comparatively radiant as always.”

//

Dib crouched behind the bushes behind the school, an equally very long set of binoculars in his hands. Zim had been acting strange at lunch today, going as far as bringing a salad. And EATING it. Dib had asked if Zim was alright, but didn’t think about what he’d say after that, or even why he’d asked. All he could do was laugh nervously as the space boy cried, or let out tearless sobs or, whatever he was doing, and then sit down, avoiding looking at him in embarrassment. He’d just made himself look dumb, awkward, and not to mention rude in front of the other kids, espessially while Zim was… dry sobbing. Gaz went home without him, leaving him completely alone with his enemy, save for the swarm of bees he seemed to be talking to almost casually while in a bee suit. Dib’s life never gets easier does it?

//

Zim felt the almost comfortably familiar feeling of being watched, and then directly after the uncomfortable yet increasingly familiar feeling of a bee crawling up his back. Zim silently wondered if his life will ever get easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vnjkcbnl hELLO!!! im sorry for not updating in so long! i was out of country for a month and couldnt get to a working computer,,, thank you so much for reading though and also to my beta reader! you know who you are and im very glad to be working with you :D
> 
> also when i said that last one was a short chapter? yeah it wasnt the first one was just Very Long, chapters are gonna be abooouuut this size from now on unless i feel like going against that completely for the sake of putting a lot of detail into a specific scene, but yknow it just be like that sometimes


	4. Chapter 4

"Zim is nothing, the Tallests are almighty, Zim is nothing, the Tallests are almighty..."

Zim could still feel Dib’s eyes on his back as he walked back to his base from skool. It was late, 6:00 pm in Earth time measurements, and the sky was purple with light refractions. Zim didn’t see that on many colonized planets nowadays, planets were either completely devoid of pollution or have an atmosphere of pea soup, only developing planets had conditions like this.

Zim used to hate the feeling of inferior eyes on him, it made his skin (?) crawl. After almost a year on Earth with the Dib-thing though, the feeling was almost welcome, even while reciting affirmations, since he knew Dib usually stayed at a distance where he couldn’t hear Zim speak. It let Zim know the Dib saw him as a threat. Staging a planetary coup meant his identity as a threat to human apes needed to be kept under lock and key, so many saw him as any other pathetic smeet-like human worm baby, but the Dib saw him as the dangerous force he was. It gave Zim a sort of pride in his work that, he wouldn’t admit, he could only get from Dib-wad recently. Well, not RECENTLY recently that is.

The Tallests knew how capable he was, that’s why they never gave him praise for the menial tasks he does everyday. And now with the remedies he’s been using he’s sure the Tallests are giving him the space he needs to fully recover, even if none of the remedies seem to be having any effect… If Dib kept ignoring him, he knew what happened last time. Along with it being frankly disgusting it was also just plain… embarrassing… Zim felt his blood rise to his face just thinking about Dib’s mouth on his face. It was humiliating to say the least.

Nonetheless, Zim took comfort in the familiar, mundane, completely NORMAL turn of events that were unfolding at the moment.

That is until he felt Dib-weed’s breath on his, excuse his primitive language, god, damned, neck.  
"What are you saying?"  
"aUGHASDFGHJKL-"  
The Dib-thing actually spoke to him, which is NOT NORMAL. The following to and from skool is normal but TALKING IS NOT. Evidently, the Dib-monkey is at fault for ANY and ALL proceeding events.

Zim straightened out the shirt and blazer he was still wearing, and absolutely, undoubtedly, and undeniably succeeded to save face.  
"A-and why would you want to know, DIB-WEED?"  
"Just tell me what it was!"  
"WELL, if you MUST KNOW I am reciting my affirmations nowhaveabaddaybYE."  
Unless otherwise stated, assume Zim is walking faster and faster as this conversation goes on.

"Wait, affirmations? Like what my therapist makes me do?"  
"I don't have enough knowledge of what a 'therapepisst' is to confirm or deny that inquiry."  
"Ok, yeah, no, a therapist is like a human that talks to other humans when they have no one else to talk to."  
"Alright well that didn't help at all, thank you very much."  
And now he's running, and Dib is chasing.

"What are those 'affirmations' for? Are you signaling your leaders?!"  
"I can do that without even speaking Dib-smell!"  
"Then what was it for?!"  
"LIKE I'M TELLING YOU!"  
Zim turned a sharp left, Dib following behind in extraordinarily close pursuit. Zim could see it, his home base was so close-

And then Zim saw a truck coming down the street.

It wasn't the street they were running on, it was coming perpendicularly to them, Zim made it across before the car, but Dib was right behind him.

He wouldn't make it in time.

Zim could handle being hit by a car, Irken are superiorly durable.

Dib couldn't.

Zim's mind was stuck on one sentence.

Dib was going to die.

And then Zim got hit by a truck.

-

"ZIM."  
"Ughh."  
Zim was still conscious, just a little, you know, in pain.  
"ZIM!"  
And for the love of the Tallests would Dib just-  
"STOP YELLING!"  
"YOU JUST PUSHED ME OUT OF THE WAY OF A TRUCK I KIND OF FEEL LIKE YELLING RIGHT NOW!"  
"I DID WHAT?!"  
"YOU PUSH-"  
"NO I HEARD YOU STUPID DIB-WAD."

There was a silence.

"...what just happened?"  
"Well, EVIDENTLY, Zim saved your pitiful life, Dib-WHINE."  
"Uh, yeah, ok, but why?"  
There wasn't any animosity in the Dib’s tone, which was kind of a first.  
"HAH, of course you'd like to know! But your itty bitty little human worm baby brain couldn't POSSIBLY be able to comprehend the ulteriority of my motives even IF ZIM found you so worthy as to be informed of them!"  
And then he took off, running into his house and locking the door. There was only one thought running through his head.

Why did I just save your pitiful life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooh, drama~~ we'll be getting some realigaytions v soon yall,,, thank you so much for reading and commenting! kudos and bookmarks are also appreciated! youre all the best and i hope you enjoyed this chapter :)


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